


Serendipity

by winestainsandglitter



Category: The Fall (TV 2013), The X-Files
Genre: F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:55:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29556648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winestainsandglitter/pseuds/winestainsandglitter
Summary: Scully is new in town and meets an alluring blonde stranger in a bar in London.
Relationships: Stella Gibson & Dana Scully, Stella Gibson/Dana Scully
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	1. It Starts in a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Here's my second try at a multi-chapter story. I hope you all like this one! Let me know what you think!

Dana could not remember the last time she felt this drained. Her mind turned over and over, flipping through old memories like magazine pages trying to recall a time in her life that she felt this exhausted, this hopeless, this unhappy. She trudged up visions of all nighters in med school, particularly stressful training days at the FBI academy, countless days spent in hospital beds with more wounds than she could count... Nothing seemed to hold a candle to her current state of anguish. Dana Scully was rarely a woman seen defeated, but at this moment, that was the only word she could think up to describe her feelings. 

It had been a month since her strategic move to London. She had been living in D.C. working with her best friend, Agent Fox Mulder, on the perpetually unsolvable cases of The X-Files. The two were six years into their partnership. Six years filled with yearning, tears, unparalleled anger, sacrifice... One month ago today, she left without looking back. She had offers from places all over the country, and internationally. Scully is good at what she does. She's excellent and competent within the fields of medicine and crime-related work. People told her from day one working on The X-Files that she was overqualified, slumming it with her basement beau "Spooky" Mulder. She never thought she would leave him. She loved him in a way that she had never loved anyone before. She loved him so much that she forgot how much she deserved. So she left. 

Her first month in London had been unceremonious. Immediately throwing herself into her new job working at London's most distinguished hospital for cancer research, Scully hadn't had much time to focus on anything else. This was maybe the first time she had taken a step back to assess her situation since her arrival, if she were being honest. All at once, it seemed, the emotional fatigue hit her like a speeding truck. She thought about Mulder, about her mother, about everything that she had left behind. She wanted to scream. Scully had always been the type of person to do the sensible things. She was always the top student in her classes; always polite and punctual as her military father had brought her up to be. Leaving everyone in her life was the most selfish thing she has ever done, and what hurt the most was knowing that she needed to do it. She needed to put herself first. 

Now, the exhausted doctor sat slumped on the tube in her scrubs after an incredibly long day of work, surrounded by strangers, on the verge of tears. Her mind filled with thoughts of Mulder. How much pain she knew she caused him, from what her mother informed of in her many and frequent voicemails. Scully still hadn't built up the courage to speak to either of them, though she did leave them both brief letters of explanation, with only a new international phone number attached. She couldn't risk either of them showing up unannounced and disrupting the new life she had created for herself. Margaret Scully called every couple of days, leaving sometimes furious - sometimes devastating - sometimes desperate messages pleading with her daughter to break the silence. Mulder never called. From her mother's messages, she could tell that she had hurt him worse than anything. Had driven a spike through his heart that could only compare to the spike he'd rammed straight through hers. The pain that had ultimately pushed her from the precipice, leaving her to land in a hopeless heap in London. She knew his pain because she felt it too. 

Suddenly acknowledging that she would have to face her empty flat in a mere matter of moments, Dana decided on a different course of action for the night. Deciding instead on the numbing effects of alcohol and the presence of strangers to fill the space in her muddled mind, she'd have a drink or four at the local pub. She hadn't been out much at all really since moving to town. She spent probably half the week sleeping in spare cots at the hospital, and the other half immediately collapsing into bed after having a quick fast food meal that had become her routine dinner plan over the last four weeks. It was a measly existence. Her apartment was still mostly-empty. She generally still lived out of boxes, pulling clothes out as needed. She wasn't proud of it, but it was the reality of the transition to a new life far from everything and everyone she's ever loved. 

The pub was a short walk from the underground station, and she entered the dimly lit space suddenly feeling a bit underdressed. The vibe was casual, if a bit more of an upscale casual - and though it certainly wasn't fancy by any means, Scully began to feel out of place in her navy blue scrubs, soiled from the sweat and stress of the day. She pushed on, deciding that she absolutely deserved a drink and she'd be fine if the worst of it was just side-glances from the better dressed patrons. She found an empty seat at one end of the bar, signaled to the bartender to order a glass of house wine, and released her loosely braided hair before melting into the bar top, absolutely wiped out. 

The bartender knocked his fist gently on the bar, indicating that Scully's drink had arrived. She looked up at him through blood-shot, sleep deprived eyes and he mouthed an apology at having disturbed her. She nodded back at him, downed her entire glass in three gulps, and then politely asked for another round. Immediately, he poured her another generous serving and left the bottle with her. 

"It looks like you need this," he said, sympathetically. "No charge," he winked at her before turning to tend to the other patrons. 

Scully took another sip from the glass in her hand and allowed the warmth to spread through her. She stretched her aching limbs, realizing that she had probably been on her feet for roughly twelve hours straight that day. As she reclined a bit in her seat, her eyes began to roam about the room. Groups of friends talking over each other in booths, shoulders grazing, arms enveloping one another. Scully's loneliness began to feel like a thick coat surrounding her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt the comfort of friendship, of company, of love. Tears began to fill her blue eyes and she almost called Mulder. Almost. 

When she looked up again, she caught a glimpse of a blonde-haired woman sitting alone at the opposite end of the bar. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Scully had to do a double-take, she almost couldn't believe how viscerally attracted she felt to this gorgeous stranger. Her hair was curled into soft waves, accentuating the brown highlights interspersed throughout the golden locks. She wore a pink silk blouse with quarter length sleeves, tucked into a pencil skirt with a side slit that made Scully's mouth water. The woman's legs were crossed, giving Scully full view of the five-inch black pointed heels that she was wearing. 

Scully scoffed and glanced to look at herself in the reflection of the mirror sitting just behind the bar. She looked atrocious, like she hadn't slept in days, or months. 

Chuckling again, she signaled for the attention of the bartender. "I'll have whatever she's having," Scully said, gesturing towards the very well put together blonde at the end of the bar. "She looks like she knows how to live life right," Scully laughed again, almost delirious thinking about her own messy life situation. 

Scully took a few more sips of wine, quickly draining the bottle she had been generously gifted by the bartender. She felt herself begin to loosen up, her thoughts starting to feel less heavy on her conscious mind. The bartender returned to her with a glass of brown liquid that Scully couldn't identify at first. She sniffed it, before taking a hearty gulp. She winced as it burned all the way down. Whiskey. She coughed a bit at the harsh beverage, not really used to drinking hard liquor. She appreciated the fog that began to form in lieu of her stormy thoughts, though. 

Her gaze wandered to the opposite side of the room again, but this time, she caught eyes with the mystery blonde. As soon as their eyes met, Scully's fluttered down, embarrassed to be caught staring. When she found the courage to look up again, she was once again met with the fierce blue-eyed scrutiny of the blonde. Trying and failing to keep her composure, Scully simply lifted her drink and tilted it in her direction, simulating an invisible clink. The blonde chuckled a bit, still not taking her eyes off the redhead. That probably looked dumb, Scully scolded herself inwardly. She then kept her eyes glued to her lap, feeling a blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks. 

Before she could register what was happening, she felt a presence beside her. 

"Is this seat taken?" came a raspy voice laced with a British accent.

Scully's gaze shot in the direction of the angelic sound of the beautiful stranger's voice. The movement wafted the blonde's intoxicating perfume into Scully's personal space and she almost swooned at the sensation. Jaw agape for probably a moment too long, Scully managed to stammer out a response. 

"Um, uh, no. No, seat's not taken. Go for it. Be my guest," Scully rattled off, feeling nonsensical. She couldn't believe how off her game she was. She hadn't talked, much less flirted, with anyone in a long time. And the blonde probably wasn't even trying to flirt with her. She was probably just being nice, seeing a sad and rumpled Dana on the other side of the bar, pathetic and alone. 

The blonde smiled and took the seat next to Scully, tilting her legs toward the redhead as she did so. Scully felt her heartbeat quicken. She was even more stunning up close. 

"Hi, uh, I hope it wasn't weird of me, saying hi to you from across the bar. I just, I don't know what I was doing. Sorry if I was staring, making you uncomfortable-" Scully rambled before being cut off. 

"What's your name?" the blonde asked with a smirk on her plump and glossy lips. 

"Dana. Dana Scully. Doctor Dana Scully," Scully responded. 

"Very nice to make your acquaintance Doctor Dana Scully. I assumed as much from your scrubs," she replied cooly. "I'm Stella Gibson. Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson," she said, mirroring Scully's professional introduction.

"Well, I presumed from your badge," Scully said as she tried to find her footing, glancing at the clip on the blonde's jacket that she placed on the back of her seat. 

"You don't seem like a whiskey drinker to me," Stella said then, motioning towards the unfinished glass next to Scully's now empty bottle of wine. 

"Ah, detective. You got me there," Scully said, feeling caught. "It's probably going to sound ridiculous, but I actually asked for whatever you were drinking," she explained. 

"Mm?" Stella responded, wordlessly prompting Scully to continue. 

"Honestly, when I saw you at the end of the bar, I thought to myself, 'She has her shit together. Maybe if I have what she's having, it'll somehow make me feel a bit like her,'" Scully continued truthfully. 

"That seems like an awful lot to assume about a stranger, Miss Scully," said Stella. 

"Please, call me Dana," the redhead replied quickly, feeling a pang of emotion when she remembered that Mulder almost exclusively referred to her by her last name. 'Scully' to her, meant work and pain. She'd like to be just Dana for a while. 

"Dana," Stella whispered silkily. Scully liked the way her name sounded coming from the blonde's mouth. "Well, like I said. A lot to assume about someone you've never met."

"I know, I know. Especially with your job, you probably work really hard. Sorry. I just... Looking at you, I couldn't help but jump to some conclusions," Scully stammered. 

"And in looking at me, what did you see?" the blonde quirked a brow as she asked, her hand casually finding its way to Dana's knee, just for a moment, before she retracted it again to signal to the waiter to order two more whiskeys. Dana's heart pounded so loudly in her eardrums, she feared Stella might feel her vibrating. 

"Well, you're beautiful, obviously. You look perfectly put together. Your confidence is apparent. You're here alone, but don't give off even a hint of feeling lonely. You just seem to really have it all figured out," Scully huffed, matter-of-factly. 

"You think I'm beautiful?" Stella asked plainly, grinning towards the clearly skittish redhead. 

"Oh, come on!" Dana exclaimed then, catching Stella by surprise at the sudden outburst. "You are the hottest person in this room easily. Hottest in all of London, probably," Scully said quickly, suddenly realizing she may be a little more drunk than she thought. 

Before Scully can be too consumed by her embarrassment, the two women's attention is back on the bartender bringing their newly refreshed drinks. 

Stella grabbed her drink, sipping it contemplatively. "I'm not the hottest person in the bar, though," Stella responded, as though it were obvious who she was referring to. 

Scully then scanned the room, going from table to table assessing each person individually. Even though she was sufficiently tipsy, Scully could tell that none of the people around them were even close to being as attractive as Stella. Stella was basically unreal to her. She couldn't really believe the blonde was even speaking to her, but there was no way she was going to complain about that. 

Scully shook her head, returning her gaze to the blonde's angelic features. "If you're talking about the other blonde in the booth back there, there's no way. Your collarbones alone are more attractive than most people," Scully joked, but also felt very serious about her statement. 

"I'm not talking about her. You are clearly the hottest person in the room," Stella leaned in as she said so, prompting the redhead to choke a bit on her whiskey. 

"Me?" Scully exclaimed, openly gaping at the blonde. "I've come straight from work, looking haggard and disheveled. No makeup. Tear-stained face. There's no way anyone could find me even slightly attractive right now," Scully argued. 

"Then how come you're the only person I've been thinking about all night?" Stella reasoned, her hand grazing Scully's before reaching out tentatively to tuck a wayward strand of Scully's shoulder-length hair behind her ear. 

"You could have anyone in this bar," Scully responded incredulously. 

"Possibly. But I want you," Stella said then, leaning closer to Dana to whisper in her ear. "Can I kiss you?" the blonde rasped. 

Scully felt like every part of her body Stella got near would burst into flames. She had never wanted anyone so badly. But something tugged at her in the back of her mind. She knew that it would be selfish to drag Stella into her life like this. Her body begged for the release that Stella was clearly offering, but she couldn't bring herself to do what she felt like would be using Stella, even if she was willing to be Scully's outlet. 

"You don't know how badly I want to say yes," Scully's eyes pleaded with the blonde whose face was now only mere inches from her own. "But I don't think that would be a good idea. I'm exhausted and dirty from work and from crying. I'm a mess, and not quite feeling like myself. I don't think it would be right," Scully said, feeling idiotic at turning down this gorgeous woman's advances. 

Stella looked surprised. Scully guessed that not many people say no to Stella, and rightfully so. A woman like Stella says "jump" and any person with their wits about them would be smart enough to say "how high?" After a moment, Stella gave Scully a look of understanding and leaned away from the redhead. Quickly standing, the blonde swigged the rest of her whiskey before pulling on her coat. Scully immediately felt the rush of cold at her absence. 

"Well, Dana. It was so nice to meet you, but it is getting quite late. I have an early morning tomorrow, so I should get going," Stella detailed. 

"Right," Scully said sadly, realizing that her chance with Stella was probably gone. Missed opportunity. 

Then, Stella reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny piece of card stock. "Here's my card. When you're feeling more like yourself, give me a call," she said with a wink. "And drinks are on me. Already paid for. It's not every night that I get to be turned down by the most beautiful woman in the bar, you know," Stella chuckled. 

Scully just blushed and quickly thanked the blonde for the drinks. Stella exited the bar, hailing a cab quickly once she stepped out onto the street. 

Scully sat completely dumfounded by the entire exchange, wondering if any of that had really happened or if she was much more exhausted than she thought - her mind playing tricks on her. But then she glanced down at the card in her palm. Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson. And her phone number. Scully shook her head in disbelief. 

"Fuck," she said aloud. 


	2. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella contemplates her attraction to Scully in therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short update for you all! Thank you so much for the kind feedback on the first chapter. I'm still working out the direction that I want to take this story, so if any of you have any line prompts or tropes you'd like me to potentially explore with this story, let me know!

"Her name is Dana," Stella said cooly, crossing her legs and adjusting the watch on her wrist. 

"What about her stood out to you?" Stella's therapist, Alice, inquired softly. 

"She... she turned me down," Stella half-heartedly chuckled at the memory. 

"Not something that happens to you much, I assume. From what you've told me, usually your conquests have proven to be quite fruitful," Alice noted, recalling their earlier sessions in which Stella had shared her affinity for the hunt. Stella was a powerful and sexual woman, and Alice encouraged that confidence in her patient. Though they had begun a dialogue recently about whether Stella may want something more than just the occasional fling.

"I mean, I'm not so vain as to assume that every person wants to sleep with me. It's not that at all," Stella explained, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward to place her elbows on her knees. She cradled her head in her hands. 

"So she wasn't attracted to you?" Alice questioned, trying to get the full picture of the alluring stranger that Stella was painting for her. 

"That's the thing. She was attracted to me, though," Stella continued. 

"How could you tell?" Alice prodded, clearly interested. 

"She practically told me outright. She said she thought I was beautiful. When I asked to kiss her, she told me that she wanted to say yes, but couldn't; that she didn't quite feel like herself that night," Stella detailed. 

"What did you say to that?" Alice asked, as she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose with the tip of her index finger. 

"I gave her my card and told her to call me once she's feeling like herself again. It's been a week and I haven't heard from her," Stella said, wringing her hands and leaning back once again - the fidgeting a result from her inextinguishable uproar of thoughts. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since." 

"If you're just looking for sexual release, you would have just found someone else who caught your eye. Is there something else you want here? Something different?" Alice asked, feeling an obvious shift in Stella that she couldn't quite put her finger on. 

"I've been thinking about everything we've talked about over the last few months. I enjoy sex and I have no problem finding outlets for release when I need it, but I've never really had a real relationship. Because of my father's death and the case in Belfast. You know I hate feeling powerless or vulnerable. It's hard for me to... open up," Stella mumbled towards the end, chewing her thumb nail in heavy contemplation. "I mean, I've been coming to you for a year now and up until a few months ago, all you knew about me was my first and last name."

It was true. When Stella had first come to therapy, the two women would sit in silence for the full hour. Stella couldn't bring herself to talk about anything that had happened in her past. The Belfast case was still too fresh, the wounds on her abdomen not yet healed. The therapy was mandatory, and Alice was the Metropolitan Police's recommendation to Stella to help her process the case. Alice remained steadfast through Stella's silent sessions. One day, Stella broke the silence, deciding she was tired of feeling defeated by the thoughts constantly running through her head; the nightmares stealing any and every moment of rest she stumbled upon. She wanted to get better. 

"You should be proud of yourself for taking these steps to try to heal from everything you've been through," Alice assured the blonde. "You've been through a lot. More trauma than most people endure in a lifetime. But you're doing your best to move forward, and that's huge." 

"I've never pictured myself being in a place emotionally where I felt I could even try to date," Stella huffed, feeling a bit ridiculous. "Then I meet a stranger in a bar and I can't stop thinking about her, and she won't even call me. I feel like a teenager who just got rejected asking someone to the prom."

"You want connection. That's nothing to be ashamed of," Alice soothed. "And who knows? Maybe she just doesn't feel like herself yet."

X 

It had been over a week since Stella had approached Scully at the bar. Scully held Stella's card in her hand, typing and deleting the digits into her phone over and over. She wanted to call her, she really did. Truthfully, she hadn't ever felt an instant attraction like that to anyone before. The realization was a bit scary for Dana. Instead of calling Stella, she threw herself into her work over the last week, which is basically how she coped with all inconvenient emotions. 

'She's most likely already forgotten about me,' Scully thought to herself. 'A woman like that probably doesn't wait around for long. She probably has people lining up for her.' 

After typing out Stella's phone number for what felt like the hundredth time, she moved her thumb to delete it all over again. Instead of hitting delete, however, she accidentally pressed the call symbol and the phone begins a steady ringing. 

Scully let out a squeak. Before she can hang up, she hears the blonde's voice on the other end of the line. 

"Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson. May I ask who's calling?" Stella answered. Upon hearing her voice again for the first time since their meeting a week prior, Scully dropped the phone. It promptly hit the floor with a loud thud. 

"Shit," Dana whispered. She staggered toward her phone and fumbled with the device in her hand for a moment. She heard Stella's impatient "Hello?" as she placed the phone to her ear. 

"Hi," Scully said, out of breath. "This is Dana Scully. We, we met at the bar the other night. You gave me your card. I hope this isn't a bad time."

Stella stopped breathing for a moment. She couldn't believe she was talking to the redhead again. She had started to lose hope. She tried to contain her excitement, keeping her voice as level as possible. "Oh hi, Dana. It's good to hear from you. I was starting to think you weren't ever going to call," Stella said, mentally kicking herself for sounding so desperate. So much for keeping it cool and collected. 

"Okay I'm not very good at lying, so I'm just going to lay it all out here. I've been wanting to call you since the night at the bar, but I've been too scared. Full disclosure, I'm still feeling kind of like a mess and I didn't think it would be fair to you to get you all wrapped up in my problems," Dana explained, sounding pained as she said so. "Even so, I would really like to see you again if you're still interested in seeing me."

Stella was a bit taken aback by Dana's confession. If only the redhead knew that Stella's life was just as complicated, if not more so. It wouldn't be so much that Dana was dragging Stella into her problems as Stella may be dragging Dana into her own. 

"Well maybe you can clear up some of that mess for me, over dinner? How does Friday night sound?" Stella offered. 

Dana couldn't hide the enthusiasm in her voice. She hadn't lost her chance with the blonde after all. She felt relief flood through her body. "Friday sounds perfect. Did you have a place in mind? I'm fairly new to the area, so I don't really know many restaurants," Scully explained. 

"How about you come to mine? I can cook us dinner, if you'd like," Stella offered quickly, wondering if she was being too forward inviting the redhead to her home. 

"Your place? Um, okay," Scully responded nervously after a moment. 

"I'll text you the address. Let's aim for six o'clock?" Stella said before she lost her nerve. She was scribbling violently on a post-it note in front of her, her leg bouncing nervously below her desk. 

"That sounds good," Scully agreed. "I'll see you Friday then."

"And Dana?" the blonde chimed.

"Yeah?" Scully quipped tentatively. 

"I'm really glad you called," Stella said genuinely. Scully could hear the smile in her voice.

"Me too," Scully responded softly, feeling the blush rise in her cheeks. "Talk to you soon, detective."

"Talk to you soon, doctor," Stella spoke into the phone before hanging up. She sat back in her seat as her heart rate returned to normal. She had a date with Dana Scully. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing about Stella and Scully, so if any of you have any prompt suggestions or requests or comments, please leave them down below! I'd love to hear what you all think.


End file.
